Archive for August, 2015



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It was not that beautiful a day. The air was also not very pure.
Just a drizzle had made the roads muddy. The smell of burning tyres that were used to make warm poor neighborhoods had made the breeze pungent.

Local elections had sparked communal tensions. Saffron or green evoked strong reactions. The walkway around the lake however, was used by all. The breeze was better, the blue sky was visible and the green hustling leaves were so peaceful. Clouds were running past high above. Ducks roosted in the shallow waters while cranes standing on one leg napped while fishing.

It was the son who wanted to go out around the walkway.

He got ready, wore a saffron lungi and took his son for a walk in the breeze. The stars had not started shining yet, though the sun was below the horizon and the shadows had disappeared. The sound of a distant train horn set many cranes flying. The son jumped with ecstasy, spread his hands and flew with the cranes. Seeing his son he did the same and flew with his son. He did not see the man in the green shirt coming near with a knife.

In the pain that tore through his back and into his heart, he turned, grabbed the man’s left wrist with his left iron hand while from his right he grabbed his son’s hand. Placing his son’s hand into the man’s, he said “Drop him home”. After his right hand was free, he placed it on the man’s forehead and said “Alla rakha” before he dropped to the ground.

The man was shocked but dropped the child home. He was never again found in the neighborhood. The child’s mother filed a murder report in the local police station. The next day, the child’s mother’s cousin sister filed a missing person report.

It has been 20 years since I lost my father. He still flies with me whenever I fly with the cranes as the sky goes saffron when the sun goes down the horizon. The green hustling leaves hear our merry laughs.

देवसुत

Photo By: Pradeep Sahoo
Submitted by: देवसुत
Submitted on: Sat Aug 22 2015 21:37:54 GMT+0530 (IST)
Category: Original
Language: English

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ஆள் பாதி ஆடை பாதி –
கண் போன போக்கிலே கால் போகலாமா
கா ல் போன போக்கிலே மனம் போகலாமா
மனம் போன போக்கிலே மனிதன் போகலாமா
மனிதன் போன பா தையை மறந்து போகலாமா

புரியா த சில பேர்க்கு புது நாகரிகம்
வருந்தாத பல பேருக்கு இது நாகரிகம்
முன்னோர்கள் சொன்னார்கள் அது நாகரீகம்
இருந்தாலும் போனாலும் ஊர் சொல்ல வேண்டும்
இவர் போல யார் என்று ஊர் சொல்ல வேண்டும்

-pudhumaipithan

Submitted by: Subba

Photo By:
Submitted by: pudhumaipithan
Submitted on: Thu Aug 20 2015 17:54:24 GMT+0530 (IST)
Category: Non-Original work with acknowledgements
Language: Tamil

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My mother called me Blue Nile
I am also named by mother White Nile
When we grew and grew we asked
Oh mother, Oh mother
Tell us, why did you name us Nile
Our mothers said lovingly
Oh our children
You travel and travel
Cross mountains, forests and valleys
Thousands of miles, enriching nine countries
you reach Khartoum
you Blue and White Niles confluence with a mission
God has commanded you to give a message
you give a beautiful message
When we rivers confluence
Oh humanity why not your hearts confluence
And you blossom with happiness.

-Dr. APJ Abdul Kalam

Photo By:
Submitted by: Dr. APJ Abdul Kalam
Submitted on: Tue Jul 28 2015 13:37:42 GMT+0530 (IST)
Category: Non-Original work with acknowledgements
Language: English

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APJ-Abdul-Kalam.jpg
Our Milky Way is shining,
with millions and millions of stars.
Our beloved star Sun,
along with eight other planets around.
Orbits the Milky Way,
finishes one orbit in two hundred and fifty million years.
Somewhere in the galaxy,
echoed a voice in surprise.

“See there the Earth shining in glory
how come it got its light?”
A sweet and soft reply comes:
“It is not the mere light,
It is the light of knowledge,
It is the light of service,
It is the light of peace.
Specially radiating from Prasanthi Nilayalam

When Earth completes its eightieth orbit
Carrying a great soul in its bosom”

Dr.APJ Abdul Kalam

Photo By:
Submitted by: Dr. APJ Abdul Kalam
Submitted on: Tue Jul 28 2015 13:36:30 GMT+0530 (IST)
Category: Non-Original work with acknowledgements
Language: English

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APJ-Abdul-Kalam.jpg
Some build rock walls all their lives,
When they die miles of walls divide them.
Others build rock walls, one rock on another,
And: then build a terrace, where they pray for love.

Yet others build walls to enclose orchards,
Endeavouring to find ways to fulfill hunger.
A few others build rock walls – to make a home,
It is their mission to serve humanity and nature.

I build no walls, to confirm to joy or sorrow;
To sacrifice or achieve, or to gain or lose,
I just grow flowers on all open spaces,
And float lilies on ponds and rivers.

I keep planting trees, for birds to have nests,
At the dawn of the sun, when morning breeze blow.
Sun light get filtered through shining tree leaves,
Birds’ flight gives me sense of freedom and pleasure.

Scattered light of colour and treasure,
Fragrance of flowers gives me delight of creator.
Lilies floating over like nature’s dance,
Why should I build walls to confine them all?

I have no house, only open spaces,
Filled with truth, kindness and dreams.
Desire to see my country developed and great,
Dreams to see everywhere happiness and peace.

Dr. APJ Abdul Kalam

Photo By:
Submitted by: Dr. APJ Abdul Kalam
Submitted on: Tue Jul 28 2015 13:34:22 GMT+0530 (IST)
Category: Non-Original work with acknowledgements
Language: English

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